Assault of Dreams
by Arianna456
Summary: I dreamed this story up last night... It's odd, and slightly depressing. This may or may not be a oneshot, depending on the feed back. ... I wish there was an 'other' genre choice thing. Chapter 3: I can't believe it... A plot is creeping in...
1. Chapter 1

Assault of Dreams

A/N:

Author(A): Don't look at me. I dreamed this up. It's weird.

Zel: VERY weird.

A: Yeah.

* * *

The Slave Compound. The worst place you could ever imagine. Dirty, cramped, smelly. Once it was my home.

Do the best you can, and imagine thousands of bodies cramped together in a log-shaped building, none haven taken a bath in over three years, all starving, and slowly wasting away.

Hell, you say? Hardly. That was heaven compared to our working place: An enormous cube crawling with black machinery, a titanic furnace in the middle of it, with all the aforementioned hellish qualities.

Needless to say, it wasn't a very happy existence.

Me? I was thirteen when I was taken from my loving family, and thrown into this place. And when I eventually thought to wonder how long I had been here, far to many days had gone by to be accurate.

But now I'm ranting. Back to the past.

I was in the factory (called the Foul Factory when the slave beaters couldn't here us) when the announcement came.

Exhaustedly, I thought I was hallucinating when the whistle for work to stop came.

'What?! My shift ends at sundown!' I screamed mentally.

But no- there they were! An armed escort of guards accompanying her, the raven-haired angel strode lightly into our midst.

All work had by now stopped, all eyes riveted on her.

A familiar anger welled up within my chest, it was her imprisoning us, she was the reason so many had died! I managed to placate the fury with the thought of someday achieving revenge.

Suffering from day dreams of her gory demise, I almost missed the announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen," She said, soft voice ringing through the silent and still building. It was a silence of hateful resignation.

"My friends"-yeah, we're her friends when she needs somebody to go die for her-"I am in need of a brave individual's assistance. A journey must be taken- a perilous one."

_What did I just say?_

She continued, "An artifact of mine has been stolen, and I am in need of it." The girl turned a cold stare upon us, daring someone to volunteer.

_Yeah right, like somebody is stupid enough to go look for your god-damn- Wait. _Go_ look for it? Get out of this hellhole?! I gotta be the one to be picked!_

Just as I came to this conclusion, a voice rang out.

"I'll do it."

As one, we all turned to the speaker. He was dark-haired, yellow-eyed (many of us, including me, had similar deficiencies), young and strong.

_Damn._

Sylphiel smiled sugar sweetly, and beckoned him closer.

A second whistle sounded, and the crowd turned back to their machinery. All except me.

I stared as the man- no, boy, strutted up to the witch, watched as she whispered to him, until a stinging pain reminded me I had work to do.

"Hurry it up, kid," Growled the beater, waving his now red- stained with _my_ blood- whip at me threateningly, leering.

I turned back to the crank I worked, tears stinging my eyes.

I will never know if they were from pain- or disappointment.

* * *

I fingered the key in my hand, fighting to hold back the trembling.

The door guard squinted at me, as if he knew I was not the boy he was supposed to see.

I was sure of my disguise- dirt had dimmed it's normally vibrant color, and it was a known fact that the boy- Terinn, was his name- had eyes that changed colors.

The guard seemed to be able to _tell_ I was faulty.

When he turned, I was certain I was going to be killed. He was going to call his friends, they would take me to Sylphiel, I would be sentenced to execution and-

"You're good to go. Good luck, Terinn."

Huh?

The portal/door opened, sliding smoothly on it's oft oiled hinges, not making the smallest whisper of noise.

I stared for a few moments at the forest floor, listening to the crickets chirp, for a full five minutes.

Finally, I turned to the guard, my eyes wide like a frightened deer.

"Go on." He smiled encouragingly, and made little shooing gestures.

_Oh L-Sama, the guard _smiled!

I stepped out of the compound, almost as if in a daze.

The door slid shut near silently.

_I'm… Free._

* * *

DISCLAIMER: A doesn't own Slayers, and she is sure she read this before, but that's probably her paranoid side speaking (Caitlin: Oh, is that what people refer to me as? 'The paranoid side'? I don't have a name anymore?). 


	2. Chapter 2

Assault of Dreams- Chapter 2 

A: That's right, it's me again. (pathetically goes into a coughing fit)

Zel: You're sick.

A: I'm straight.

Zel: No! I meant you're… contagious.

A: (smiles bitterly) Thoughts so. I am GOING to finish this fic before I cough my lungs out and/or commit suicide because of misery of illness!!!!

Lina: Good luck with that.

A: (cracks knuckles, coughs three time in succession, cracks knuckles again, and starts typing)

* * *

"I realize why the guard smiled, now," I said to myself, not bothering to lower my voice. "He saw I had no provisions… He knew… He knew this fate would be worse then having my head chopped off…"

I shivered, and hugged my arms to myself.

The freezing winds whipped around, making the dark forest seem even more daunting then usual. The ice-covered top of a pond rose before me. I stared out over the ice almost wistfully.

Someone was watching me. Their eyes bore holes into my back, just gazing, staring. Watching to see what I was going to do.

I had sat there for ours, and my pursuer undoubtly knew.

Distantly, I wondered, if it was an assassin sent from Sylphiel. I had, after all, offed the guy she meant for this mission.

But why would she care? Everyone knows it's a suicide mission. She could care less whether one or all of us died, so long as she still had luxuries…

My thoughts were effectively interrupted by a heavy cloak being thrown over my quivering shoulders. I hurriedly pulled the garment closer, not bothering to acknowledge the owner.

He, I, and the world knew he was there. No need to state the obvious.

I did not spare him a glance as my shivering gradually stopped. He, for I knew instinctively that it was male, gazed at my half-starved, hollow face, and my piercing, haunted eyes.

Haunted because they knew they were owned by a killer.

We sat there for minutes, hours, days; I no longer bother to keep track of time.

Finally, he spoke, in a far-to-cheerful voice for this winter evening.

"What's a person like yourself doing out here? Particularly without a cloak or jacket, or anything?"

I said nothing. Just stared, out over the water.

"Someone abandoned you, huh?"

Damn you… Just go away… I'm invisible, no one cares…

"Is anyone with you?"

_Why do you care…?_

"What's your name?"

Two words escaped my lips, nearly lost to the wind, my voice hoarse with disuse. I hadn't spoken a word ever since arriving at the Slave Glade.

"Lina Inverse…"

His eyes widened as I turned to face him.

He had purple hair, with slitted cat eyes that seemed somehow sinister. The most amusing expression of shock was on his face before he pulled together his composure.

"She disappeared _years_ ago!"

I spoke again, my voice sounding little better then the first time I formed words.

"Did I?" A bitter smile formed of it's own upon my face. "I lost count. How many?"

The man's face contorted, his expression suddenly unreadable.

"I see… My name is Xellos."

He held out his hand.

I said nothing and turned back to the water, a clear gesture of dismissal.

Xellos, the bastard, then turned over his wild card, leaving my own eyes wide and moth agape.

"Would you like to go home, Miss Lina?"

I whipped around and grabbed hold of his shoulders, bringing him closer to me. Careful inspection of his face, I released and murmured a dissent.

The man sighed, as if disappointed, and quested for my reasoning.

I ignored him.

The poor soul continued you to chatter to me, my silence transforming it into a monologue.

I pretended not to listen. But how could a broken soul like me, one who had been trapped for years without news o the world, _not_ be fascinated by the world's events?

"… And the last I heard of her, the princess was traveling alone, seeking to 'fulfill justice', but I believe it's just a rumor. Sailune couldn't possibly be stupid enough to let both her _and_ the heir to the throne wander off into places where they could get killed. Hey Lina, are you listening?"

_Why is he still here… What could there be that he might want from me …? … Perhaps he _is _and assassin from Sylphiel… She evidently wants me _talked _to death…_

For the first time in L-sama knows how long, I laughed at my own joke.

Xellos smiled knowingly. I had the urge to slap it off his face and wipe the floors with it. I hadn't had that urge since before I was captured!

"As I thought, simply talking brings life into you."

I turned to face him, my expression undoubtly questioning.

Yet he smiled. "An hour ago you looked ready to die, and now…"

"I thought you were an assassin."

"Maybe I am."

"Your client must really hate me to want me talked to death, then."

Xellos's eyes narrowed.

"I'm just kidding." _Sheesh… This guy needs to lighten up!_

His face contorted again, this time smiling mischievously.

Something bad is about to happen… 

Xellos held up his hand and opened it, revealing a golden object, glinting in the faint moonlight.

_My key!_

"GIVE THAT BACK!!!!" I shrieked, lunging at him.

He backed away quickly, never taking his eyes off me as he retreated.

_DAMN HIM!!! I _NEED_ THAT!!!!!_

A: Grr… Wish me good health, and don't judge to harshly on this poor fic. Please? (insert puppy dog eyes) Estoy enfermo…

Zel: You speak Spanish?

A: Not really.

Zel: Oh.

A: (coughs pathetically)

Zel: I'll do the disclaimer…

DISCLAIMER: The only thing A owns right now is either a REALLY bad cold or the flu. Neither of which you want.

A: Take it, please!!!!!! I'm dieing…


	3. Chapter 3

A: Urrg… (dies)

Xel: Good morning!

A: How can you be so cheerful? … It's … six A.M.

Xel: How can you be so grumpy?

A: (coughs pathetically)

Xel: Oh… Are you going to be able to write?

A: Yes!!! I WILL finish this fic if it kills me!!! (starts typing)

Xel: (sweatdrops)

* * *

I ran blindly after my tormentor, cursing him all the while.

"Come on! Give it back!"

Xellos flashed me a glimpse of my key, before turning his back to me and putting on another burst f speed.

_The bastard!!!!_

A fierce wind struck me as I dropped the cloak- _Xellos's _cloak- to the ground, allowing me to run a little bit faster.

"Stop it! I need that!"

For the first time, he answered me.

"Almost there, Lina-chan!"

I was tempted to stop right there and just let him have the key.

After all, this could just be a plot to lead me somewhere so he can…

I stopped my thoughts right there and continued running.

I could not be safe without that key.

It disallowed Trackers, human or monster alike, to find me. It blotted out my aura.

I _needed_ that key.

In the blink of an eye, he disappeared.

_Umm… What?_

Rustling sounds to my left caused me to whip around to face my newest vict- err, visitor.

He (another man?! Sheesh!) was clothed entirely in beige-white cloak, tunic, pants, and boots, and scowling at me very nastily. Only his eyes were visible. And there was something odd about them…

I dismissed the notion and calmly asked if he had seen Xellos.

"WHERE THE HELL IS HE, THAT PRIEST BASTARD!!!!"

Or, not so calmly.

--A: Excuse me while I take a break here and cough my lungs out (doesn't cough lungs out, but comes close to it) … Okay! I'm done! --

I think I blew him away with that one.

The man(?) just stood there and stared at me, eyes wide.

"Don't just stand there!" I snapped, getting annoyed, "Have you seen 'im or not?!"

"Uhh…"

_It is a guy! Bingo!_

"Fine, then."

I half-flew down the path … Or, I was supposed to. One step and it was lights out for me.

My last thought before the darkness was: _Shit… I am _never_ gonna get that key back now…_

* * *

A: (looks ill and pathetically… pathetic)

Xel: (smiles the Xel smile)

A: …

Xel: …

A: …

Xel: I'll do the disclaimer, since you seem to not be able to speak, A-chan.

DIsClAiMeR: Poor A-chan only has a really bad cold and currently a very short temper. And as I'm sure you, the reader, would ADORE having A-chan's cold, she doesn't seem to want to be rid of it.

A: Huh?

Xel: Oh, nothing.

A: I'm getting a bad feeling… Or it could be vertigo, I'm not sure. And don't want to find out.


End file.
